A Café Named Desire
by Ignis et Ventus
Summary: Every morning, Draco Malfoy goes to a café and orders the same thing. He goes to the same table, sits in the same chair. But one day, everything changes, and it's all thanks to a black haired green eyed stranger...AU. HPDM
1. Life, thy name is monotony

Hi everyone! Ignis here, Ventus is at work right now, and seeing as I have a particular penchant for typing, I tend to type up most of our stories. And she comes up with all of our ideas.

Anyways, as you've noticed, it's another Harry/Draco, we can't help it, they're just so cute!!!! So, we don't own Harry Potter…it's sad but true.

Yes yes blah blah, THE STORY!!!

A Café Named Desire

Third person p.o.v.

The blond haired young man shivered as he left the safety of his appartement building. A cold gust of air caught him by surprise and lifted goosebumps on his unusually warm skin-he had barely just woken up. His alarm clock had somehow been repetedly thrown against a wall early on Monday morning and had since stopped working. It had therefore not woken him up on time this chilly Tuesday dawn and he was in a rush to reach his usual breakfast haven.

The cold wind did nothing to dash his high spirits. He had a certain _joie de vivre _that he found a lot of people in this day and age lacked. This was the era of fun after all. "Live for today. Dream for tomorrow." the people around him seemed to say.

He walked non-stop for a couple of blocks, only looking up to make sure that no stray cars were about to run him over as he crossed the street illegaly. A hidden bell chimmed as he pushed open the door to a small coffee shop. The shop was situated on a main and quite busy street, surrounded by many larger stores that made it somewhat invisible. A simple sign was placed above the entrance and on it was printed in bold black letters 'Desire'.

Everything in the cozy shop assaulted his senses at once. The smell of freshly ground coffe tickled his nose, the heat emanating from the crackling fire licked at his dry skin and the calming buzz of lifewas music to his ears-not counting the soft jazz that was playing in the background.

He walked up to the cash and smiled warmly at the woman behind the counter. She gave him a knowing smile back and a wink that said: 'I've been waiting for you.' He let out a low chuckle. There was nothing particularily funny about the situation, but, just like the smile and the wink, it had become a part of their routine.

The woman, Charlene her nametag said, left the cash register for a few minutes and came back with a steaming mug of black coffee. He dropped three dollars into the woman's outstretched hand and muttered a small 'thank you'. He picked up his liquid gold and went to his table near the fireplace. He had, for lack of a better word, claimed the seat as his upon his very first visit to the home-away-from-home café. From that table and that table alone, one could see everyone and everything in the shop.

He scanned the crowd as he had the most peculiar feeling that someone was watching him. A young man with unruly black hair and piercing green eyes sitting a few tables away was staring avidly at him. The blonde made eye contact with him, but the strange man held his gaze strongly.

Shrugging, he picked up his piping hot mug of coffee, blew off the layer of steam and took a sip. Then he unfolded the newspaper that had been lying in front oh him and scanned the front page.

After a while, the man's mug was empty and his newspaper had been read. Looking back to the table where the stranger had eyed him from, he nearly jumped out of his sking when his cool steel gaze met once again the emerald one.

Shaking his head and ignoring the incredulous feeling of being studied, he gathered his belongings and left the small forgotten corner of Heaven called desire.

It was time for his day to commence, much as all of his days had begun these past few years.

To be continued…eventually….

Well, we hope you liked the first chap, sorry it's so short. Please review and tell us what you thought, criticize all you want(so long as it has a point), and we definetly won't say 'no' to compliments if there are any.


	2. A Change In Setting

OMG!!! An update!! Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are…I've had the beginning for a while now, and I got around to finishing it last night cause I had to stay at school- wait, you guys don't care, do you? Oh well, I'll shut up and let you read. I hope you enjoy it and please leave a quick note telling me what you thought, and maybe where you think I should go.

Third person p.o.v.

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

SMACK!

A pale hand retreated back to the warmth that its deep blue comforter provided. Heaving a great sigh, the bundle of covers turned away from the intruding light that shone through the slightly parted curtains. But the effort to shut out the world was in vain as, only a few moments later the alarm clock went off again.

Throwing the plush fabric off of his body, the blond haired man stretched his legs and swung them over the side of the bed. He pushed a complicated series of buttons on the small plastic contraption and the atrocious sound it had previously been emitting stopped. Why he had bought a more efficient alarm clock was beyond him, for the moment at least. As he curved his back in a sequence of awkward and most certainly uncomfortable positions, he wondered why the logo "You'll just _have_ to get up" had appealed to him when he had bought the godforsaken thing.

He raked a hand through his hair, untangling the smooth strands. It was all he ever did to keep it in order, yet day in and day out people asked where he had it done and what products he used. He figured that if he could have just one penny for every time he had said the word 'shampoo', he'd be rich.

But such thoughts are generally better left for a time when one has ingested a proper amount of coffee and is therefore in an appropriate state to evaluate the situation. The idea of a piping hot mug of coffee was enough to get the grey-eyed man to the little bathroom attached to his bedroom, and he proceeded to prepare for his official greeting of the day.

Less than half an hour later, a head of damp blond hair was the last thing to be seen exiting the warmth of its owner's home. When the sound of keys clicking a lock shut had failed to be heard mere seconds later, a black clad arm slithered its way back into the apartment and to the table that had been placed next to the entrance. It picked up a set of keys and joined the rest of itself on the other side of the wooden plank.

The wind that whipped his hair around was a little warmer than the previous days'. Or maybe that was just a fool's perception hoping for an early end to the rugged winter the city had been subject to. There was less traffic marring the criss-crossing streets, leaving the seemingly warm breeze more freedom to tickle the passers-by's cheeks and allowing the blonde easier access to his destination. The bell that hung above the door signalled his entrance, but the deep resonance was rather foreboding in comparison to the light and cheerful ring it usually held. The din inside the restaurant had a different ring than previously, more like a swarm of hungry bees than the soft cooing that he remembered.

Shaking his head slightly and smoothing out the lines that had formed on his sleepy face, he walked towards the cash.

Cold brown eyes stared him down from the opposite side of the counter, quite a change from the warm, inviting blue ones he had grown accustomed to. A quick glance to the new cashier's nametag told him only that he and 'Todd' would not be getting along as well as he and Charlene had.

He paused for a second too long, not used to having to vocalize his order, and a slight, impatient cough reminded him of that fact. "One large black coffee," he ordered, then added, "please." almost as an afterthought.

As he waited for his drink to be served, he drummed his cool fingers on the warn countertop and looked around. The usual crowd was there, but something was missing. He began turning his head to look at his eagerly awaited spot when the cashier returned carrying not a steaming mug of black coffee, but the five-dollar bill that had been handed to him before. He didn't have time to ask what was wrong before 'Todd' said brusquely, "We're out of coffee and the maker just broke. Can I get you anything else?"

Flabbergasted, the blonde let his eyes scan the menu, but nothing caught his eye. He began shaking his head 'no' when 'Todd' spoke again. "If you're willing to wait, it's possible that we'll be able to fix the coffee maker, but I'm not sure how long it'll take."

The young man shifted his weight from foot to foot considering his options. "Ummm…okay, I'll wait; I have a bit of time. Could you let me know when you fix it, if you do?"

As he watched the other nod his head, he understood what had changed the ambience of his favourite morning place. "What happened to the music? Did the music player break as well?" He asked dryly.

"Yes actually. Whoever was in charge of cleaning last night knocked over the radio and it broke." It was obvious by the tint of red that had spread over his cheeks that he had been the one in charge of cleaning the previous night. The customer strongly suspected that 'Todd' had had something to do with the coffee machine as well.

The blonde blew the air out of his lungs, creating a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a cough, and made his way away from the counter.

As he passed by the newspaper bin he let out another exasperated sigh accompanied by a set of expletives. It was empty.

The blonde had never before noticed the particular shade of green of the plush carpet that covered the room's floor, but as he made his way to his secluded table, he appreciated the jade fluff. His entire posture- shoulders hunched, feet dragging, head bowed- spoke of defeat. He looked like he could sink no lower than wherever he currently was. He looked like he would not be able to drag himself back to common grounds if he were to sink any lower. And he certainly felt that way.

The first thing to make its way into his line of vision, as he got closer to the table was its foot. The dark wood had been smoothed over and varnished some time before, but it still remained unmarred. Were he to raise his head, his gaze would follow up the leg of the table and eventually come to rest on its shiny round surface. Instead, he kept his head bowed and continued on his slow progress to the seat he knew was on the other side of the wooden support. He continued until another object made its way in front of his eyes. A shoe. A simple, black-leather shoe, behind which another shoe, exactly the same, was tucked. The back one was swinging back and forth evenly from its position perched on its brother's back, swaying to an imaginary beat.

Attached to each black covered foot was a long jean-clad leg, the thighs of which disappeared under the cover of the small tabletop. Above the table, the body continued. A flat upper stomach covered by a black cotton button-down shirt gave way to an equally flat chest, from which sprung two slim arms. A thin neck followed, then the soft line of a jaw, neither thick nor thin lips, a pointed nose, high cheekbones, long black lashes, big bright green eyes, and a mop of messy black hair. The lips pulled upwards into a tight smirk. A deep rich voice that fit the body perfectly filled the blonde's world.

"Can I help you with anything?"

The standing man began spluttering, waving his arms frantically in the air. "That's _my_ spot!!" He finally managed to get out.

An amused look sparkled in the other's eyes as he repeated in an incredulous tone, "_Your_ spot?"

The puerility of what he had said hit him hard. "That is to say, I usually sit here. Every morning for the past two years I have sat here. I was merely surprised at finding someone else occupying it."

Disappointment flashed across the dark-haired man's face before disappearing into a sea of cheerfulness. The boyish face was oddly familiar to the coffee-less one, but also slightly disconcerting. A shiver suddenly wracked his small frame.

"Well, I'll just leave you to it then." The man got up to leave, but a quick glance to his table on the blonde's part made him lay a gentle hand on the stranger's shoulder, stilling all movement. A half-empty mug of tea and a ruffled newspaper lay there.

"No! You were here first, I don't even have anything, I'll go…elsewhere." He smiled and took his hand off of the other's back.

"Are you sure? After all, this is_ your _table."

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm actually going to go because I came for coffee but they have none and they're out of newspapers, so I'll just get a head start on my work today."

A blush spread across his cheeks as he realized how much he had been babbling, and to make matters worse, the green-eyed man spoke up. "Hmmm…I think I know enough about you to merit a name, don't I?"

Still blushing, he struck out a pale hand to shake the other's darker one. "Draco, Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."

A warm hand encased his. "Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you too."

And with that and a small smile, Draco took his leave. As the door closed behind him, a small voice in the corner of the room could be heard. "Pleased to meet you, indeed."

In the background, an irate looking waiter by the nametag of 'Todd' was looking around holding a fresh pot of coffee.

Finally, as he reached the light to cross the street and make his way to work, the flash of green from the traffic light took him back to the previous morning, when a certain black haired, green-eyed stranger had eyed him from across the room. Had he been holding a mug of coffee, he would have dropped it.


	3. Knight in shining WHAT?

Urgh, I have got to update this story faster!! And with longer chapters. Well, not much is there to be said, simply that I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters, something I very often forget to specify (not that it really needs to be…).

Please review when you're done reading, as part of the reason for which it's taking me so long to update is that my inspiration is running thin with this story and I don't know where I'm going with it.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three:

Draco Malfoy awoke to the feeling of inexplicable dread pooling in his stomach, dread and a seriously bad yen for coffee. He couldn't remember the last time that he had skipped his morning coffee, and he never planned on doing so again.

Despite his discomfort, the will to leave the warmth of his bed was simply not there. His world consisted of heat, pleasant dreams in which he kept seeing a vivid pair of green eyes for a reason far beyond his sleepy comprehension, and silence apart from the low buzzing of the waking city outside. Cracking his eyes open, he winced at the overly bright light filtering into the room from the lampposts outside. Had he broken his alarm clock in his sleep this time? Had it not woken him up at all? There were more possibilities that his sleep addled brain worked out, but the cloud of comfort did not lift from his mind to allow worry to take over. And rightly so.

6:25

He had woken up five minutes early, five entire minutes prior to the time he really had to get up at.

Oh how nice five more minutes of sleep sounded, but even in his state he figured that he would hate himself when his alarm finally did go off, so as his warm toes hit the cold floor, he turned it off altogether before it could make its infernal racket.

A quick shower was the perfect cure for the drowsiness that tried its best to keep his eyes shut, and the invigorating smell of jasmine that wafted up to his nose from the suds that decorated his body chased away what was left of his previous state.

Fully awake, Draco stepped out of the stall and grabbed a fluffy white towel from a pile on a near-by chair. Then he walked, with a bounce in his step, to his closet and picked out a suit. A few minutes, the sound of clothes being ruffled and zippers being zipped later, he stalked back into his bathroom snatching his toothbrush from its holder. He slowly unscrewed the cap of the toothpaste tube and pushed out the minty freshness onto the rigid bristles.

After only a half a minute of brushing, Draco found himself wishing that someone would invent coffee flavoured toothpaste, along with coffee scented perfume and coffee scented shampoo. He hurried pit pf his bathroom, eager to reach the desired café, only to be stopped by a sound that his subconscious mind did not associate with his morning routine-or his any-time-of-day routine for that matter.

A soft pawing sound followed by the scratching of something sharp against wood. The blond man slowly edged towards the noise, until a new sound joining the two others stopped him in his tracks.

"Meow!"

He jumped slightly before realization dawned on him. "Urgh, stupid Aunt Bella and her stupid cats!"

Aunt Bella, his late mother's sister had a very strong affinity for cats, and a very bad habit of picking up strays, nursing them back into health, then dumping them on some poor saps doorstep under the pretence that she was going away on vacation, couldn't possibly take the thing with her, and that she would be back in 'no time'. Needless to say, Bella wasn't the sort of person you can say 'no' to.

The only thing that could make matters worse was her other habit, of convincing the temporary owner to become _less_ temporary once she returned. She had left the night before, at two o'clock in the morning, for a secluded village in Venezuela, and would surely not be back for another month or two at least. Using her copy of his apartment's key, she had dropped off the furry horror as he had slept and locked it in the small kitchen pantry.

Deciding to deal with the infernal creature upon his return, he prepared a bowl of fresh dry cat food and slipped it quickly into the pantry, closing the door before the feline menace could escape. When he stepped out of the building, dark clouds had begun form overhead.

Now very eager to reach his awaited cup of coffee (or two or three or ten cups), he walked with a brisk pace to the café, reaching it in record time. It was only when he saw the dangling sign above his head that he remembered the green eyed stranger from the previous days. Harry Potter was his name. "Hmm…strange name to go with a strange guy. Then again, I can't exactly say anything considering my own name." He muttered to himself, standing but a foot from the door. As he reached out a hand to tug the barrier open, a slight prickle began at the base of his neck and spread to the tips of his fingers. The feeling of being watched, he deduced, was very similar to the feeling of a thousand little ants crawling along one's skin. The tinted windows of the café left the interior space and mood entirely up to the imagination of the passers-by, but Draco, being a usual customer knew what to expect. Or at least he thought he did.

Whatever ideas he had of peace, quiet and tranquility had been quickly banished, only to be replaced by chaos, disorder and the horror of an oppressive crowd pressing in on you from all sides. In short, he had the sudden impressive feeling of one who had just walked into the ninth circle of Hades (at least if the heat and flashed if flickering orange coming from the kitchen were anything to go by).

He felt the door hit him on the back as it shut itself behind him and took an automatic step foreword. A step that took him right into the person standing before him. The line to the cash, composed mostly of what appeared to be tourists, stretched on until right where Draco stood, not half a foot from the door. He debated as to whether or not he should wait and decided that skipping his morning coffee two days in a row was simply _not_ an option.

As soon as the thought of staying crossed his mind, the door flew open to let another flock of foreigners into the already over-crowded room, causing Draco to bump once more into the person before him and so on and so forth, the domino effect made a wave-like ripple through the crowd until the first person in line was squashed unceremoniously into the counter that would not give, even under the great weight of dozens of people.

Without warning, the line lurched foreword. The blond looked over the many heads, but was disappointed to see that the line was not actually moving, but rather being separated in two. A thought that gave him a certain amount of relief however was that he could not spot a mop of unruly black hair or green sparkly eyes searching for his own in the swarm of people. Groans of impatience followed this procedure, only to be interrupted by a high-pitched, shrill scream.

The people around the table in question all took great steps back as if afraid that staying close would cause them bodily harm, giving Draco a full and clear view of the scene. A middle aged woman wearing a black skirt with a white blouse, her jacket strung over the back of her armchair, had screamed in terror upon realising that her colleague had lost the ability to breath due to the large piece of walnut cake lodged deep in his throat and obstructing his airway. Not too fond of heroics and not too sure he could remember all of the steps to the Heimlich manoeuvre, let alone in the right order, he stood still and waited for someone else to rush in to help.

And sure enough, not a heartbeat later, a young brunette ran to the choking man and coaxed the chunk of now gooey cake from its position. With the Darwin Award avoided, interest quickly returned to the immobile line. Draco glanced at his watch, looked back at the people in front of him, and seemed to be weighing the possibilities in his head, when a 'click' from the back room caught his attention a split second before he was plunged in utter darkness. A fuse had blown, short-circuiting everything electronic in the shop, coffee makers included.

Fate seemed to be laughing at him by putting the _only_ coffee shop on the way to work out of order, but with no knowledge of how long it would take to fix everything, serve all the people before him and with no guarantee that nothing else would go wrong in the meantime, he could not afford to wait and see. He would have to make do with the heated sock juice that they served in lieu of coffee in his office building.

He pushed his way through the lines to the exit, daring any deity to try to make his morning any worse than it already was. Little did he know, they already had. Even through the smoky windows, the world he was going out into seemed to be greyer and gloomier than the one he had stepped out of not too long ago.

An involuntary groan released itself from him when he stepped out of the warmth and into the torrential rain…but he did appear to be getting wet.

Raising his eyes he saw not the cloudy, raindrop blurred sky, but rather a dome-shaped, hexagonal canopy of black. An umbrella.

He turned to thank this supposed stranger, only to be met by a pair of dazzling green eyes. The words of gratitude died in his throat as a whole new slew of things to say swarmed his brain. 'You again!' being one of the most polite. They stared at each other for perhaps five seconds during which the pitter-patter of the rain was the only thing to be heard, until his 'knight-in-shining-umbrella' leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You're welcome, stranger." Draco could only blink.

Harry chuckled at his confused expression, hooked his left arm, the one holding the metal-and-plastic contraption, around Draco's right, and began leading the other down the sodden road.

After what felt like forever, Draco rediscovered his voice. "Where are you taking me? I mean, it's not that I'm ungrateful-for the umbrella and all, thank you very much- but, I do have to be at work at-"

"-nine o'clock sharp, preferably a bit before nine, or your boss, Mr. Nott I do believe, will be extremely displeased and you run the risk of not getting the promotion you've been striving for, for the past two months."

"Have you been stalking me?" The blonde asked, his mouth slightly agape. Harry chuckled again.

"No, but sometimes you mumble when you do the crosswords in the paper. You know, when you're finishing your coffee at _your_ table."

Draco blushed even darker at the emphasized word. "Alright, so you haven't been stalking me, but that doesn't tell me where you're leading me. For all I know you're a rapist."

He seemed to realise that as he said it for he stopped at once as soon as the words left his lips. This time the other man full out laughed. "Draco, if I was a rapist, or a kidnapper, or a stalker, I would have rendered you unconscious as soon as we left the main street. In case you haven't noticed, there's no one here but us. And anyway, you really need to think about things like that _before_ you let yourself be led away, Lord knows where, by a complete stranger."

At this it was Draco's turn to snort. "You know, you have a bizarre way of calming people down and bringing them back to Earth." He shook his head and caught up with his morning partner. "So, where _are_ you taking me?"

"Right over here." The taller, black haired one turned them into a boutique that, had Harry not been there to guide him into it, he would never have know it was there. It seemed to just melt into the shops around it, and as he looked around for a sign to indicate the shop's name, he found none.

"It used to be called 'The Dream Café', but the sign fell down in a storm a few months back and they haven't bothered to put it back up yet." Harry had caught him staring.

Whereas the "Desire" café was a pleasant experience for all of Draco's senses, the "Dream Café" left much to be desired. The only sound in the small room was the echo of a voice coming from the kitchen (Raul!!! Where is the coffee, boy? What do I pay you for? To stand around all day? No! Coffee! NOW!!"). The only pleasant object in sight was a delicately arranged bouquet of flowers that had been placed on the front counter. The walls were of a shade of grey that made one think of wood-rot and water damage. The tables were of faded white plastic and the floor was barely covered by a threadbare rug. Beneath that was cement.

The coffee that Harry had ordered for them tasted much too watery, but apart from that was alright. The only thing that really got to the blond young man was the smell.

Cinnamon. Cinnamon that had been left to its own devices at the back of a dusty cupboard for far too long and had begun to complain about it. Cinnamon had never before bothered him, but neither had he enjoyed it. This, however, turned him from the spice for good. Suddenly, Draco was pulled from his judgemental thoughts by a hand being waved in front of his face. "Earth to Draco Malfoy. This is Houston calling. Space aliens have begun attacking our lovely planet and we require your dashing good-looks to come home and dispel them. This is your mission whether or not-"

"_What _are you blabbing on about?"

"You weren't answering when I cal-"

"Wait! You think I'm good-looking?" Draco asked with an astonished look on his face. Harry snorted derisively.

"You know you are- at least I hope you do. Otherwise you really need to go to the optometrist's. I know a pretty good one down the street from here. Her name is-"

"Why did you bring me here today?"

Harry blew his bangs out of his eyes exasperatedly. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's impolite to interrupt people? I-"

"No, actually, my mother died during childbirth, so she never got that chance." He didn't know why he had said that, and with such finality. Maybe he expected the black haired man to be put off, to leave him alone. Maybe he wanted to tell the other his life story and figured he should start at the beginning. And then again, maybe space aliens really had taken over the Earth and were content to force Draco's mouth to say things in complete lack of co-ordination with is brain. Which he doubted, but one never does quite know.

Whatever he expected from the other, it was not for him to continue as if nothing had happened. But he did. And Draco could only blink.

"Well then, I'll tell you now. It's considered rather impolite, even rude, to interrupt people whilst they are speaking, like I am doing now so close you pretty lips and let me finish speaking. Yes, I think you're good-looking. Actually, I think you're mind bogglingly gorgeous, but that's for another conversation. The optometrist I know, her name is Kathleen Andrews. She's great, her office is a block from where you work, walking East. I brought you here today because I feel bad about you not getting your coffee yesterday and I'm not sure if a caffeine-junkie like yourself ("Hey!") can survive a second day without a fix. Besides, despite its lack of appeal in certain areas, this place is quiet, private, and kind of home-y. And I'm sorry about your mother. If it's any consolation, my parents died when I was young, so I can relate." He took a sip of his coffee to signal the end of his speech. Then he smiled and leaned in to say. "Close your mouth, you look like a fish out of water."

Draco shook himself a little and came out of his stupor. "Wow, that was…eloquent. You're good at improvising speeches- or did you write that before getting me? No, that would have been impossible. Well, not impo- mumph!"

Harry had placed his hand over his companion's lips, stopping the flow of words. "You're babbling."

Draco blushed at their proximity and looked away, his grey eyes coming to rest on an object fixed to the wall that he had not noticed before. A clock. It read nine fifty-six. Hmm…

Wait…nine fifty six? "Argh!! Oh my holy- I have to go!!" He heard Harry calling him back, but he was already out the door and running in the rain. Back in the little shop, Harry slumped back into his seat, and muttered, "The clock is an hour and a half in advance, you idiot!"

It was only when he saw the tall dark building in which he worked looming into view that a number of things hit him. He had not paid for his coffee, he had not thanked his newfound…acquaintance? And he had left his jacket slung over the back of the plastic chair. But as he strode past the front doors, he forgot all thoughts from his outside life. He forgot the furry, four-legged menace in his kitchen pantry, he forgot his jacket, and he even managed to shunt aside all thoughts concerning sparkling green eyes.


	4. Awkward elevator ride anyone?

I must admit I have no excuse for taking so long to update. I have had the plan for this chapter ready for a loooong time, I'm just inexcusably lazy…you guys need to kick me into updating faster…

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys it and leaves me a review if they did…or didn't, it's nice to post a chapter and actually get feedback on it!

Chapter Four: Awkward elevator ride anyone?

Hot breath smelling of rich coffee raised goose bumps on his skin, leaving him cold and clammy when the breathing stopped. He yearned to feel the breath once more, but knew not how to ask for it.

_-"Please…"_

_But the breathing did not return. Scalding liquid made its way down the side of his face. As it trickled over his lips he realised it was coffee. A rough tongue lapped up the fluid, raising goose bumps along his jaw line once more. The owner of the hot breath and talented tongue was above him, towering over him like a predator. A tall, dark shadow reached out a hand to stroke his dry cheek, but when the blonde tried to lean into the touch, it disappeared. He looked up into a pair of dizzyingly green eyes as a pair of full lips locked onto his own._

Draco groaned as he felt the weight of the bed shift, interrupting the pleasant dream he had been having. His nighttime visitor crawled up to him from under the covers and fixed him with an intense stare of vibrant green. Draco's breath caught in his throat.

-"Meow!"

He groaned again. "Stupid cat! You've got eyes just like his."

Images of the dream filtered slowly into his conscious mind and a slight dusting of pink covered his pale cheeks, neck and ears. He looked around his room, trying to find something to distract himself with so as to keep the dream from playing over in his head.

His eyes were drawn to the only source of light, only distinct thing in the dark. His alarm clock. 

6:00

Someone, somewhere was deriving sick and twisted pleasure from this, he was sure. At least they had better be! He sure as heck didn't want to be waking up earlier and earlier every morning for no reason at all.

He lay back down in the hope that sleep would claim him once more, but it seemed to have turned a blind eye on the blonde. He stayed in bed until the familiar itch if irritation started at his fingertips, and he got up.

At quarter to seven he placed a bowl of water next to the half empty bowl of cat food, cleaned the litter box (washed his hands), and left.

The ominous rain clouds of the previous day had left to dampen another town's spirits, and the first few rays of sunlight illuminated the streets. Keeping to the shady patches so as to avoid squinting and the headache that came with it, he made his way to his heart's, or rather his stomach's desire.

When he pushed open the door of the café, he saw the preceding day's crowd had come once more, though this time in a less impressive number, or perhaps it was jus that he was early, either way, there was no need to fight his way into the shop and to the cash. He looked around, trying to spot a familiar face in the horde, but Harry was nowhere to be seen.

It appeared that the new comers to Desire knew not how to interact with indoor voices, so he ordered his coffee to go. Glancing around on his way out, he did not see Harry, so pushed him from his mind and continued on his way to work. He failed to notice the hand that slipped into his coat pocked and retreated discreetly as he walked through the door.

He lost himself in his thoughts, and seemingly sooner rather than later, found himself walking through the revolving doors that served as an entrance to his looming office building.

The entrance hall was devoid of human presence save for the receptionist, Pansy, who, it would appear, lived within the confines of the building. She was always there when he got in early and equally in attendance when he left work late. That in and of itself would not have been a bad thing, such devotion to one's work is not easy to find in this day and age, if not for-

"Draco!! My, my you're in early this morning. Even Mr Nott isn't in yet." She batted her eyelashes at him. It was also not so great because, although she was always there early and late, he had a nagging suspicion that she wasn't there for her work. "Trying to get a head-start on your day?"

He glanced at the clock beside him.

7:30.

"Yeah, Pansy. I've got a lot to do today…so I'm just going to go get to it."

He forced a smile onto his face and made a mad dash for the elevator to his right whose doors were beginning to close. Just when he thought he was home free, and the doors were very nearly shut, a pale hand shot between them, causing them to reopen. But it was not Pansy Parkinson who stood opposite Draco.

Hermione Granger. A colleague that he had used to work in very close quarters with. She had almost gotten a promotion, but at the last minute, lost it. Because he got it. And so he became her boss, then her boss' boss. The promotion he was trying to get then was to become her boss' boss' boss. Needless to say, she still hadn't forgiven him.

After a very awkward minute of out-of-place cheery music, the elevator doors opened at the eighth floor, and Hermione stepped out, leaving Draco to ride to the twelfth alone. Not a single word was spoken.

He got out onto the soft, slightly squishy grey floor and followed the maze of cubicle walls to the office in the corner. That was another reason for which he was happy to have arrived at work so early once more. He had realized the day before how much…safer he felt when he didn't have to dodge death glares from his colleagues as he made his way to his bureau. Really, how was it _his_ fault that he had gotten the only office with a door and a window that gave a gorgeous view of the city?

With a sigh, he settled down into his desk chair and took off his jacket. His eyes fell on a small square piece of yellow paper stuck to his computer monitor. Tearing it off, he scanned it over, deciphering the chicken scratch that was common to all notes from Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott's personal secretary (though many suspected that his job went _much_ farther than simply answering the phone, booking appointments and sending out memos).

_Draco,_

_Mr. Nott would like to see you in his office at three o'clock sharp tomorrow afternoon. Don't be late; you know the drill by now._

_Blaise _

_PS. You looked fabulous yesterday, cutie!_

Caught somewhere between anxiety and amusement, he threw the paper into the garbage bin, and turned on his PC. The jingle that usually set him into his work-mode rang out in the room, but for some reason or another lacked its typical motivating charm. Perhaps it was the leftover discomfort of his conversation with Pansy Parkinson, or maybe it was the incredibly awkward elevator ride with Hermione Granger- _or maybe_, said a little voice inside his head, _it's the fact that you can't get that dream out of your head, hmm? The fact that you wish it had been real? The fact that you're oh so disappointed that you didn't get to see him this morning? See Har-_

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and attempted to remove all thoughts of the black haired man, indeed all thoughts of his outside life from his mind.

It worked for all of about one hour, until a co-worker walked by his now open office door, and he caught a whiff of her perfume. Cinnamon. A strange sent to be spraying on one's self, but that was not what made Draco freeze

"_Earth to Draco Malfoy. This is Houston calling. Space aliens have begun attacking our lovely planet and we require your dashing good looks to come home and dispel them. This is your mission whether or not-"_

No! He endeavoured to keep the other man from his thoughts- _you are not some love-stricken teenager_- and succeeded for the first half of the day, filing the many reports he had let accumulate over the span of a few days. Who would have thought that he would still be doing the one thing he hated most about school, after school was over and done with?

When he stepped out for lunch, something he did not very often do, preferring to confine himself to his office until five o'clock when he could go home, he sighed at the feel of the sun on his face. It was good to take the time to appreciate something so frequently taken advantage of.

He made his way to the deli down the street, ordered a sandwich when he got there, and walked back to his office while munching on a 'veggie-lover's delight'. It was incredible how much energy a full serving of vegetables could offer, and the blonde finished his word day without any problems surfacing.

As he shut off his computer to head home, a pair of green eyes forced their way into the forefront of his mind. He had been ignoring them for long enough, and sighed the sigh of a deeply disappointed man.

_Maybe tomorrow…_

Hello boys and gals! I am really sorry for how long it took me to update and I am really, really sorry about the crappy quality and content of this chapter. I will probably take it down and rework it later, but I don't want everyone to feel like I've given up on it or something.

For those of you, if there are any, who read 'Iris', the next chapter should be up soon, if it's not, don't hesitate to kick me in the butt.

And last but not least, I would like to know if anybody has any ideas about what kind of a job Draco should have, could they let me know? 'Cause I have Harry all worked out, but I'm stuck with Draco!

Thanks, and I hope you are all having great weeks!!


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